


An Arrangement of Emotions

by Acting4Hope



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Body Dysmorphia, Body Worship, Coming Untouched, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Praise Kink, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25574281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acting4Hope/pseuds/Acting4Hope
Summary: Argo and Fitzroy are still unwilling to settle their differences, but cannot ignore the growing tension.Thus, they strike an arrangement.This is when it all falls apart.
Relationships: Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	An Arrangement of Emotions

**Author's Note:**

> gemini is in gatorade, okay? that's my excuse for this 
> 
> honestly don't ever expect me to do something like this ever again this was a One-Time Deal alright??? okay??? please don't expect me to become the horny writer i have a reputation to uphold 
> 
> THAT BEING SAID enjoy if you do, and just know i have so many other works that Aren't This that are great and amazing that you should check out, okay? okay
> 
> EDIT AS OF 7/30/20: hi i just wanted to jump out in front right here and state this was written BEFORE the ttazz where fitzroy was confirmed asexual. so before u crawl into my inbox to point that out, i'm aware. this was written before i knew, and was posted before the episode even existed. obviously it's ur decision whether or not you wanna read this, knowing fitz is ace, and i respect that. like i already said, this was pretty much only gonna be a one-time thing anyway, and i think the ttazz further cemented that (at least until i do more personal research on asexuality bc, admittedly, i am a little under-read on the subject! and i think it's okay to admit that and strive to work on it) 
> 
> so ANYWAY lmao

Argonaut Keene could be described in quite a few ways. 

Most know him as the citrus-obsessed, sea-faring, charismatic rogue who always remains just out of the corner of your eye. Others know him as a loyal-to-a-fault member of the Unbroken Chain juggling too many lies. Fitzroy, personally, would describe him as a dumb, untrustworthy, rude, roguish lowlife who he’s graciously allowed to remain in both the Thunderman LLC _and_ his personal company. 

He’d _never_ describe him as frustratingly hot, a great kisser, and an _unbelievable_ tease. 

Even if he thinks so. 

The… “arrangement” that began a month ago was merely a culmination of a lot of pent-up emotions. Both men were too stubborn to sit down and have that “talk” they both knew needed to happen, and thus started the increasingly annoying dance around the topic. As such, morning meetings turned tense stare-downs; dinner time became secret glances shared back and forth, sometimes noticed by the other party, sometimes not; and sparring sessions morphed into emotionally-charged quips paired with incredible blows. 

Fitzroy feels justified in his distrust of Argo; _clearly_ he’s hiding something, and he’s already admitted to what some of that entails. Even still, a part of him is too desperate to cling to his companionship--convinced there’s a good man hidden under all the lies, a man that sat and begged for Fitzroy’s life. But the negatives outweigh the positives, so Fitzroy remains bottled up. 

Or, _remained_ bottled up. A lot of things changed after Buckminster’s 21st birthday rager. As soon as Fitzroy clumsily collided his lips with Argo’s, he knew as much. And as soon as Argo readily returned his advances--hands grabbing for his hips as he roughly pushed Fitzroy against the wall--Fitzroy knew they’d have to do _something_ about it. 

So, the arrangement began. No strings, no words. 

(Well, _some_ words. Fitzroy _is_ Fitzroy, and Argo has even more of a slippery sailor mouth when he’s riled up.) 

It was simply a means to an end; an emotional burper to the fermenting bottle of unspoken words. Fitzroy got something out of it, Argo got something out of it. And, at the end of the day, it _did_ help! Morning meetings became less tense, and dinners became more jovial. The only thing that didn’t really change were the sparring sessions--though, those usually contributed to the moments shared behind closed doors. 

And, best of all, they didn’t even need to communicate whens and wheres! Simply a knowing lock of the eyes and a specific tilt of Fitzroy’s head is all it takes to initiate, and Argo gives his response with either a smile or a frown. 

That’s how Fitzroy finds himself in his current situation, walking briskly back to his dorm room after dinner. A day full of frustration and too many thoughts, a knowing look, and a subtle-but-eager grin. 

Fitzroy quickly shuts the door behind him, immediately overwhelmed with the scent of ocean air as Argo cups his cheek and roughly pulls him into a kiss. Argo left for the dorm ten minutes ago--spacing their exits so as to not raise suspicion--and it’s clear that he’s been eagerly waiting. Fitzroy closes his eyes and lets himself be taken by the pleasure of it, hands running along Argo’s collarbone. They roughly makeout for a few minutes, Fitzroy’s back still pressed up against the door as Argo’s hands begin roaming across his chest. They know they have time, having memorized the Firbolg’s schedule for the purpose of their arrangement, and so neither feels inclined to immediately move to Fitzroy’s room. Eventually, though, Argo’s mouth starts to roam across Fitzroy’s chin and down to his neck, causing a breathless whine to escape Fitzroy’s throat. He tugs on the back of Argo’s shirt, a silent request to move this to his room, and Argo immediately obliges. They separate just long enough to make it to Fitzroy’s room and lock the door, and then Argo is back to pressing open-mouthed kisses to the half-elf’s neck. 

“C-Can we try something different, tonight?” Argo pants, pulling Fitzroy out of his pleasure-filled haze to look down at the genasi. He’s staring up at Fitzroy; pupils wide, lips shining with saliva, and face blushed a light purple. The look he’s giving him stirs something deep in Fitzroy’s gut--something both primal and completely human--and he wordlessly nods before remembering verbal consent is one of their few rules. 

“A-As long as it remains within the realm of my...interests, t-then I suppose we can switch it up,” Fitzroy agrees, reply far too verbose for the situation. A wide, gleeful look spreads across Argo’s face as he quickly grabs Fitzroy by the waist and hoists him into the air. Fitzroy yelps and instinctively wraps his legs around the rogue’s torso, trying his damndest to not notice the ripple of Argo’s muscles as he gently lays Fitzroy onto the bed. He crawls on top of the taller man and resumes kissing, deftly unbuttoning Fitzroy’s shirt while the other does the same. They break to pull their shirts off and, before Fitzroy can make a move for Argo’s pants, the genasi firmly pushes him back to laying down. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, I got this,” Argo says, his voice low and rough as he smiles dastardly down at Fitzroy. The sight sends a ripple of pleasure through him. Argo tends to take the lead in these situations, but there’s something so...mysterious about his look right now. Something that could mean the end of Fitzroy in the best way possible. And Fitzroy can’t deny his excitement at the thought of whatever Argo wants to do. 

Argo begins pressing kisses along Fitzroy’s jawline, taking time to worship every inch of skin with his mouth before moving downwards to his neck. “Tonight is all about _you_ ,” Argo whispers against Fitzroy’s skin, the vibrations sending hot waves of pleasure down to Fitzroy’s nether region. “I don’t want you to lift a _finger_ , okay? You just lay back, relax, and let me take care of you. Think you can do that, pretty boy?” The petname does more to Fitzroy than he’d let himself admit, let alone let _Argo_ know. 

“Y-Yes, I can...I-I can do that.” Fitzroy manages, face flushed as he tries his best to relax his body as Argo instructed. Argo smiles against his skin, returning to his previous task of kissing and sucking across Fitzroy’s neck. He is thorough in his ministrations, leaving not a centimeter untouched in his slow conquest of Fitzroy’s body. At first, Fitzroy tries to let himself be lost in the sensation, letting out small moans and whimpers when Argo finds a particularly sensitive spot. But Argo is taking _too long_ ; by the time he works down to his collarbone and chest it feels like _eons_ have passed. He feels himself involuntarily squirming under Argo, attempting to get some friction where he needs it most. 

“A- _Argo_ ,” Fitzroy pants, white-knuckle gripping the sheets as he wiggles his hips fruitlessly into the air. “C-Can we hurry it up a bit? I-I get it already, I just n-need--” 

“ _Shhh_ ,” Argo places a finger against Fitzroy’s lips, now back up to eye-level. The action would usually trigger Fitzroy’s temper, if it weren’t coupled with that _smirk_ and his half-lidded stare. As such, it clams the barbarian up, as well as make his face go beet red. Argo slowly drags his finger down Fitzroy’s lips, trailing teasing circles down his neck and onto his chest as he speaks. “I _told_ you, this is all about you tonight.” 

“O-O _kay_ , but I just want to...y’know, get to the good stuff?” Fitzroy replies, barely biting back a whine. Argo laughs, low and slow in his chest, and lets his finger wander lower. 

“This _is_ the good stuff, Fitz,” Argo says, leaning in towards Fitzroy’s ear. His breath is hot as he exhales, pressing a few kisses up the ear before nibbling on the tip. Fitzroy’s body shudders and he gasps, hips bucking into the air. “You’ve been having a rough week, don’t think I haven’t noticed. You need a load off, a reminder of all of your...assets.” Argo leans up just enough so Fitzroy can see his lust-filled gaze. “You’re a _leader_. Don’t leaders deserve to be worshipped?” 

Argo is as intuitive as he is stubbornly charming. 

Truth is, even the most handsome of villains have their own personal issues, and Fitzroy is no different. Growing up in a town where he always felt like the outcast, then moving to a school where he was _explicitly_ the outcast doesn’t do the greatest things to one’s sense of self-image. Fitzroy knows, tangentially, that he’s a very attractive guy. It’s not like he can’t _see_ the stares the occasional students give him, or the girls in bars who (unfortunately) giggle and ask their friends how to approach him. But to himself? Some days he just doesn’t feel...right. Doesn’t feel real. It can last for a while, and is usually characterized by a subtle lack of care in his personal appearance. Opting to wear his more casual outfits, or spending less time on his hair. His biggest tell is mirrors--which, as Fitzroy cranes his neck to look behind Argo, he realizes he forgot to take his capes off of. 

Argo isn’t just trying to help him blow off steam. He’s trying to...help _him_. In an explicit way, sure, but it’s help nonetheless. 

Fitzroy feels embarrassed, charmed, and incredibly aroused as he nods with intent. Argo lets out a breath (secretly relieved that he hadn’t crossed a boundary) and lowers his mouth back to Fitzroy’s body. 

Only this time, instead of silently making his way across Fitzroy’s body, Argo speaks up. 

“ _Gods_ , it’s like they carved you out of marble,” he mutters in awe, hands joining his mouth and running along Fitzroy’s abdomen. “Every inch of you is _perfect_ , Fitzroy, you know that? Your face is so handsome, your collarbone is pronounced and strong, your _chest_ \--I could go on for _days_ about what your chest does to me. You’re toned in all the right places, but with just enough fat,” Argo squeezes Fitzroy’s love handles as he begins kissing closer to his navel, “to prove you’re still human. It’s just-- _you’re_ just _hot_.” 

“O- _Oh_ \--” Fitzroy gasps, neck craning back as he feels himself grow increasingly hard. The kissing and touching was a lot already, but the _talking_ \--oh, Fantasy Christ, the _talking_ \--is doing things to Fitzroy’s mind and body that he never thought could happen. He’s acutely aware of every movement the genasi makes, while also being lost in the hazy cloud of pleasure. He drinks every last word like a man dying of thirst in the desert; desperate and at his wits end as he hastily gulps down every droplet. 

Argo must look up and see the physical turmoil he’s causing because his hands finally start to undo Fitzroy’s belt, expertly pulling the leather off before unbuttoning his pants. As he does so, his mouth sucks marks into his pelvic region, getting closer and closer to the prize as Fitzroy grows more and more desperate. He pulls away long enough to assist Fitzroy in shimmying his pants off, then his mouth moves all the way down...to his thighs. 

“Oh, come _onnn_ ,” Fitzroy whines, quickly followed by a high-pitched moan as Argo begins placing fervent kisses all along his inner thighs. He’s so _close_ \--so _dreadfully close_ to where Fitzroy _wants_ him to be, and the anticipation is killing him. But, at the same time, the feeling of Argo’s mouth along his tenderest of spots is doing things he never thought could be done to him. 

“You’re fucking _beautiful_ ,” Argo pants, finally letting some of his arousal show in his voice as he runs his hands up and down Fitzroy’s legs and pelvic region. “I wanna study every inch of yer body. I-I wanna _paint_ yer body--I wanna _sing to the heavens_ about y--your body, Fitzroy. You’re just so--gods, you’re everything a guy could ask for. Y-You’re _everything_ , in general!” 

“A-Argo, _stop_ , I--I’m gonna, oh _gods_ \--” Fitzroy moans, biting down on his lip to prevent the filthy noises he wants to make from leaving his body. He arches his whole body into Argo’s mouth, feeling the slick sensation of Argo sucking hickey after hickey into his skin. He reaches down and clutches at Argo’s watery locks, eliciting a loud moan from Argo that sends shockwaves up Fitzroy’s spine. He can see his vision going hazy as he becomes overwhelmed with the sounds, the sensations, the smells, _everything_ Argo.

“ _Fuck_ , _I think I’m in love with you_ ,” Argo mutters, just loud enough for Fitzroy to hear as his climax slams into him full-force. His vision goes completely white, senses numbing from the overstimulation as he cries out in ecstasy. He faintly hears the potted plant in the main room blow to ceramic smithereens as he comes off of his pleasure-induced high, panting and allowing his senses to return to him. He feels Argo flop beside him, still muttering something that he can’t quite hear, and then. 

Well, and then he _hears_. He hears what Argo just said. 

And suddenly that post-coital bliss is ripped from underneath him as he becomes painfully aware of the man laying beside him. He returns to the room, breath still slowing as he glances over to the genasi. Though he attempts to hide it, Fitzroy knows he knows. He can see it in the tension in his shoulders, the slight dip of his brow. 

Argo realizes the wrench he’s thrown into their little arrangement. 

The two lay for a few minutes in absolute silence (silence that would, usually, be filled with fleeting kisses and playful banter), Fitzroy incredibly aware of the fact that he came in his underwear without a single touch. He wants to stand up and change out of his soiled underwear, maybe wipe himself off and see if Argo needs to do the same, but he’s frozen in place. Argo seems to be the same way too. Though, as he shifts, Fitzroy can tell the genasi is still hard. 

“D...Do you need help? With, uh...with that?” Fitzroy asks, finally returning to life as he awkwardly points downwards. Argo blushes and shakes his head. 

“N-No, I, uh...I think I’ll just deal with it in the bathroom.” Argo replies, just as awkward. He sits up, gathering his shirt from the ground and standing. His legs are shaky (though whether that’s from arousal, guilt, embarrassment, or something else entirely--Fitzroy will never know) as he makes his way towards the door, only sparing a glance behind him once he’s got it partially open. 

“I-I’ll, uh...Yeah.” Is all he says, quickly shutting the door behind him as he leaves. Fitzroy lays there for what feels like a century, listening to the faint sounds of Argo entering his own room and turning on the shower. Then, when he feels like he’s truly alone, he slaps a hand over his face and groans. 

Well, now he’s fucked in more ways than one. 

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, i got tumblr. @lesbian--susie. hmu if you wanna. dear jesus christ why did i do this ghbrhjgrbhjgrbrghj


End file.
